Category Archives: love

love, mystery

On The Subject of Love

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While talking about love, I don’t want to get sappy. I really hate sappy. It seems so disingenuous. People going on and on about it…trying to pin love to their lapels like a badge of honor or wear it like a new pair of ‘look-at-me’ expensive shoes. And those speeches at weddings? Doesn’t it often seem like they are trying a bit too hard to convince the guests? These days everybody wants to declare their love publicly as if it’ll make it more real. Often it appears to be more about marketing an image of love or an event of love rather than nurturing the real thing. Remember those ‘love is’ sayings? Well, sometimes love is just shutting the hell up about it.

…but I am not cynical. Not me. I believe wholeheartedly in the incredible Force that is Love. At its purest, there is nothing greater. Unfortunately, as old Billy Idol still sings, “there’s nothin’ pure in this world.” No, this world is full of impurities like liars, thieves, murderers, money grubbers…and those are just the ‘respectable’ citizens. And the funny thing is that every one of those liars, thieves, murders and money grubbers clings to some semblance of love. The wicked possess love too because we all require it to survive. Hitler loved his dogs and that Eva whatsit. Being capable of some degree of love is not enough to make you a decent human being, and simply needing love does not get you into Heaven. There is so much more to it than that.

I once dreamt about True Love. I saw it in an image. I felt it in an image. And so, within the limitations of language, this is how I best describe what I saw and felt:

Love, in its truest form, is normally hidden beneath all the things of this world, but in the dream, all that heaviness that usually covered it was pulled back so that I could see what Love looked like. It had five characteristics.

First, Love was a light in the darkness, but more than a light. It glowed beautifully bright surrounded by the dull greys and blacks and off-blacks and off-greys of this world…and within its magnificent glow was essential nourishment. Like food to the body, air to the lungs, it would mean pain and absolute death without it.

Second, Love was porous…porous because it was soft and warm and welcoming to the weary soul.

Third, Love was metal…metal because it was unbreakable. It was fixed and unmovable. Stronger than anything ever imagined…eternal, as long as the soul held onto it.

Fourth, by its very nature it connected…unified. It turns what is separate into One.

Fifth, it was in the shape of a drop because a drop originates from a source and the Source of all Love is God.

One of the most underrated metaphysicians in history once explained Love like this: I in them and you in me—so that they may be brought to complete unity. Then the world will know that you sent me and I have loved them even as you have loved me. John 17:23

bible, jesus, love, religion, theology

What’s So Good About Good Friday?

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It’s Good Friday, and I never really liked it. Even as a child, I could never see what was good about it. It was a tragic day. A horrible day. A day of mourning. And now that it’s become ‘a thing’ to re-enact the crucifixion, it’s even worse. All those so-called Christians indulging in what is essentially sadomasochistic porn, and not even bothering to get the nails in the correct places.

“Don’t you know?” I want to scream at them. “That’s not what it’s about! It’s not about what they did physically! That’s nothing. None of that matters. They couldn’t hurt Him. It’s what they did spiritually. Can’t you see? It’s what they did to themselves and to this world. They were given a great Gift…a wonderful miraculous Gift, and they rejected Him. They rejected truth, love, progress, faith, life, potency, God. They rejected everything we needed for this world to become a better place and all because He interfered with their petty wants and desires…because He challenged their convenient self-aggrandizing identities…because He was proof that their fabricated self-serving narratives were wrong.” That’s exactly what I want to scream at them.

And when I look around and see people worshiping money and class, clinging to man-made politically motivated dogmas, even using the name of Jesus to placate their own soul-eating egos, I wonder, would it be any different today? If He came back as He was, not as many imagine Him to be, would anyone recognize the precious Gift or would it all be the same thing over again? Would people look down at Him for not driving a fancy car or being a botox-filled celebrity on Letterman? Would they turn away from every wonderful thing He offered because none of it made the list of Oprah’s favourite things? Would they ridicule Him because His clothes were not as fancy as Kate Middleton’s? Would they believe He was not a real man of God because, unlike Osteen, Jake, Hagee, Robertson, He didn’t make Himself rich by exploiting religion? Would they do it again? Would they throw away their only hope once more? Would they?

A Few Facts About Jesus

-born to an unwed mother in a sexually oppressive society where both mother and child would have been stigmatized (whether you believe in Immaculate Conception or not, this was His social status)

-born into the lower class of a highly structured class system

-shunned wealth and the wealthy

-shunned power and the powerful

-spoke out for the poor and helpless

-chose truth over making friends

-most of the friends He did make were from the bottom rungs of society

-publicly challenged social injustices and hypocrisies

-publicly challenged oppressive religious traditions and rituals

-publicly challenged social hierarchy

-never bowed to a king, high priest, military leader or wealthy official

-never allowed them to crown Him as an idolized king

-never made alliances with or manipulated people for political or personal gain

-never tried to sell God as a commodity

-was questioned, ridiculed and scapegoated for being from the ‘wrong side of the tracks’

-never turned away from God because more people would like Him and it would make things a whole lot easier

(If He were here today, would you side with Him?)

 

 

hate, inspiration, love, short story, writing

A Really Short Story Inspired by the Song “I Will Survive” (by Gloria Gaynor and later a rather biting rendition by the band Cake)

Oh, it’s you.

Just stop right there, and don’t even think about crossing over my threshold. You’re not welcome here anymore.

And now I can’t believe you are giving me that look…that look like you can’t understand why…as if you have no idea what you’ve done…that ‘who me?’ look because you’re just as pure as the driven snow. Right?

No! Don’t speak! Don’t say a word. It’s no longer your time to say anything. You’ve said all you had to say before, which in the end wasn’t much at all. Empty, thoughtless, stupid words were all you knew…all you know.

You left me here. You left me in this purgatory. I thought I was going mad. What else was I to think? That’s exactly what happens when people go mad…what happened to me. What did you think I knew? You think I was on the inside? I told you I wasn’t. Did you think I knew their secrets…that I was a part of their party? I was alone. You knew that. But it didn’t stop you, did it? It didn’t make you more human and less simian.

I gave you a chance…no, I gave you every chance to prove that you were more…that you were better…that you were evolved. And each time, what happened? You didn’t change your ways. Each time you treated me as if I were your thing…your token in a monopoly game. Which one did you envision me as, the wheel barrow, the thimble, the scottie dog? Never mind. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters anymore.

And before you ask, no, it’s not just about Tootsie O’Toole who showed up at my door one day, waving that ring. The one you know I paid for, because without me you would have been a nobody. Laugh if you like, but you know that’s true even if you don’t have the guts to see it. You know a lot of things you’re not man enough to see.

I never did tell Old Toots the truth. What would be the point? She thinks you’re an American sheriff and those black licorice guns you carry are the real deal, but we know better…don’t we. We both know I’m the only sharp shooter around these parts.

The choices you made about me, didn’t you see them in the headlines? They were written there. You can’t make choices about me and not have them echo throughout this world. Those choices resounded in moments in time…words overhead…things spilling, falling, breaking, dying. Your choices were well recorded everywhere. And even when the Universe threatened to strike you down with, for God’s sake, lightning itself…even when it thundered and crashed right above your head…even with all that, still you held on to your fool’s cap like it was the Word of God. Nothing could shake you from that egotistical dream you made for yourself…that egotistical dream you made of yourself.

And now it’s too late…now that you see what happens when I pull out, it’s too late. And there are no do-overs in this world. You failed the test. That’s it. It’s done with, finished, kaput. The buzzer sounded and you didn’t have the right answer. You lost. Now, go! Go cry your heart out on Tootsie’s shoulder. And if things get real bad, you can always pawn that ring.